The Newlyweds
by KRTheBlackPearl
Summary: Sweet little oneshot! Kataang!


**Summary: Katara and Aang on the first night of their honeymoon. This is set in the future (obviously you sickos) I know it has probably been done like a million times, but this is how I imagine it would play out. **

**So I've recently come under a little (very little mind you) fire for this story. Hear me out for a minute before you start trolling (if you're not a flamer, please proceed reading the fanfic) I completely understand your motives, they're quite admirable actually! But I digress, although there is a bedroom scene there is NO explicit detail. This is mature content appropriately rated. If you PM me requesting that I take it down, I will not respond. If you leave an offensive review, I will remove/dismiss it. **

**Let me know what you think and if you'd like to see another character pairing or have an idea for a story you'd like to throw at me, PM meh! (I don't do slash or incest)**

**Put down the tomatoes ladies and gentlemen. Please notify me if you spot errors.**

Warning: Suggestive themes/vague detail regarding love making

**The Newlyweds**

Katara's heart beat maniacally in her throat; she lifted a small, shaking hand there, her fingers trembled against the cool skin of her neck. Aang watched with speculative eyes, his brows softening at the sight of her anxiety. Gently, he wound an arm around her and hugged her to his side; she forced a smile and cleared her throat.

"I'm alright. Just… nervous, I guess."

He understood. Unmanly enough, he wasn't in much of a hurry either. They had a whole lifetime ahead of themselves; there was no point in rushing something so irreversible.

He broke away from her, allowing her space to collect her thoughts. He had never seen Katara so achingly beautiful as she was today, standing with him in front of him at the altar. Their closest friends had attended the event and Katara had danced with practically all the guests. They were showered with gifts and praise, congratulated for finally tying the knot. Despite their evident love for each other Katara was a worrywart and refused to accept his proposal until she was sure they were meant to be.

He stole a final glance at her before he reached to open the door that lead out to the balcony. Her hands were knotted against her toned stomach, and briefly he wondered how much time would pass until it would swell with the growth of new life, or if it ever would. Her eyes flitted about the open rooms; she took her bottom lip between her teeth and gnawed it tensely. He admired the way her dress clung to her figure, how it hugged her small waist and flared out at her shapely hips. The train drug behind Katara as she moved about the retreat, effectively pulling her bodice snugly against her front. He had never so fully appreciated her physique as he did in this moment. He felt an unfamiliar pull in his gut, a strange hunger stretching awake inside him, yawning as if rousing from a hundred year rest. He frowned at the sensation; it wasn't painful, but slightly upsetting.

Katara tentatively lifted her gaze to meet her husband's and was startled by the look on his face; she had mistaken his approval for frustration. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm so…." She searched for the right words. "I'm not afraid," She lied. She shrugged dejectedly, "I don't know what's wrong with me."

She rubbed her elbows to comfort herself. She was making this awkward. She had promised herself it would not be awkward. Why was she behaving like such a coward? Where had her strength fled to? The courage that had always aided her in defeating their childhood enemies had suddenly evaded her on her honeymoon night. She had never dreamed this situation would have been filled with such tension. They had never been as physically aware of each other as they were now. Nor had they ever been so unfamiliar with each other. It wasn't that she didn't trust him, she was just unsure of herself.

He smiled, even laughed, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut in amusement. The sight of his happiness eased her in the most maximal way. "Katara," He breathed her name and observed her again, a trace of merriment still pleasantly twisting his features. A moment later he became staggeringly sincere. "You're beautiful."

Her breath abandoned her, her throat went dry. She tugged at the soft hair behind her right ear and felt her cheeks put off heat like a furnace. "Thanks."

She considered him in turn. Aang had grown tall in his late teens and at twenty four years of age he now stood over her a full head height. He was a handsome man with chiseled features, his form broad and lean. He still had that childish mischief about him, although he'd matured beyond everyone's expectations. And she would always have a special love for his tattoos; they were beautiful markers, unparalleled to that of any body modification on the planet. Coincidentally, she reminisced years back when they were children, the time she had consulted a fortune teller about her romantic destiny. She grinned at her girlish foolishness.

"What are you thinking about?" Aang felt the corners of his mouth pull up as her regarded her.

She chuckled softly and bit at her knuckle. "I was just remembering something from one of our adventures." She glanced up at him. "Do you remember the fortune teller, the one who dictated the year based on clouds?"

He grinned fondly, recalling his defeat after having eavesdropped on Katara's confessed expectations for a man that sounded nothing like what he thought he could become, and the juvenile revenge that followed to get back at her for unintentionally wounding his male pride. "Yes." He couldn't stop himself from beaming.

She laughed, her eyes questioning. "Why do you look so amused?"

He shook his head slightly. "It's of no consequence. At least I'm not short."

Katara's brows arched at this, and she opened her mouth to say something before closing it again. Had he heard everything she'd said that day? He offered her a quick smile and went out onto the terrace, closing the door quietly behind him.

She grinned after Aang. She loved that man so much.

Now she was alone to brood and worry.

Katara gripped her elbows. She was very glad that he wasn't there to see her acting like such a girl. She was excited, anticipating, but should she have been so frightened?

Outside, Aang had made himself comfortable in a cushioned chair. He let his mind wander; absently watched the sun set lazily behind the mountains. A blossom oriented scent rode on the breeze. He tried not to overthink what couples usually do the eve of their honeymoon, but he'd failed miserably. Would he be… satisfactory? He covered his face. His mind was racing with no particular thoughts. He got up and walked around; bracing himself against the balcony's edge. The house sat lonely at the lip of a steep cliff. The sea bordered them on all sides, the lights of a city in the midst of construction shone in the distance. With that exception, there was no one around for miles. He discarded his heavy ceremonial robes and leaped over the edge. He used his earth and airbending to cut a path down to the beach. A cloud of sand burst around him when he landed. He looked back up towards the house, a good hundred feet above him. Katara hadn't heard him. Had she changed yet? Or washed up as she had planned? Fleetingly, he fantasized about her executing those tasks. Again, that alien hunger wrapped around his heart and squeezed. He felt his face warm at his boldness. They both had been so innocent in their youth. Only very recently had Aang become so… restless.

He watched the waves crash and break against the rocks. The sound filled his ears; the sight busied his brain with the thought of the ocean's inexhaustible power. He began to bend, the activity almost meditative. Water lifted, it curled and swooned; it lashed out and drew back. Multiple ribbons of it twisted into the sky, interlacing precisely. He felt his heart calm in his chest; he felt his blood cool in his veins.

An hour crawled by. In that time Katara had made a pot of tea, drank four cups, nibbled on a cracker, and paced the living area until she cut tracks into the carpet.

She went to the bathroom and found a full length mirror. Aang said she was beautiful. It didn't matter if anyone else didn't agree, she felt like a treasure when he told her she was. Her hair was braided in intricate black ropes which were pinned and wound purposefully around her head. There were small blue flowers tied into her locks.

The lace collar of her dress was tight against her throat; she had chosen the conservative gown because her mother had donned it when wedded to Katara's father. The thought of her deceased parent brought unshed tears to her eyes. Katara only mourned for the fact that she could not have been there to see her and Aang's ceremony. _No mind that, this night will not be one meant for sadness._

She twisted her body and studied her reflection dubiously. There were buttons all the way down the back of the dress, ending just above her tailbone. There were also numerous ties. Although she didn't want to, something inside her whispered that it was time to shed the dress. She petted the white fabric affectionately before reaching behind her neck to undo the clasps. She couldn't unfasten the buttons between her shoulder blades. She tried every angle and her arms tired after ten minutes of fruitless effort. Exasperated, she crossed her arms over her chest and thought. She needed help… oh. Her pulse quickened at the thought of Aang helping to undress her, but it was not accompanied by quite the same fear as it might have been an hour ago.

With renewed confidence she marched out of the bathroom and opened the doors to the terrace. The chairs were empty. He was gone. She went back into the house.

"Aang?" She called his name many times and never received an answer.

Her chest heaved at the thought of him leaving. Had she done something to drive him off? She went out onto the terrace once more, anxiously scanning the beach for her husband. She spotted him water bending directly below her. After breathing a sigh of relief, she decided it was best to get back at him for alarming her, no matter if it were not deliberate.

She raised her arms, compelled her being to waterbend against him. She had never tried to control another's waterbending before, never pulled at the water they were using. It was difficult, it felt heavy, but she felt wickedly gleeful at his dawning confusion. She felt the weight lessen as Aang stopped, completely at a loss for words as he stared at the water which was seemingly suspended in air by magic. She sent it flying about him in a large ring formation, gradually tightening it until it nearly enveloped him. He looked up and caught her in the act. She giggled and sent the water back to its rightful place in the ocean.

She raced to the master bedroom while he made his way back up the cliffside. She heard him come through the kitchen, "Katara?"

"In here!" She felt her voice quaver a bit. She hoped he didn't notice.

He stood in the frame of the doorway, crossing his arms in a playfully disapproving manner. "That wasn't a very nice thing to do to your new husband."

She bit her bottom lip to stop herself from smiling. "Sorry?" She quirked a brow as she said it, a small giggle escaping her.

He laughed and cocked his head. "Is everything alright?"

Suddenly, she was feeling a tad queasy. She jutted a thumb in the general direction of her back, "I can't get the buttons undone by myself." She said the words slowly, her tongue was thick.

Unable to watch her husband's reaction, she turned away from him. She grew fretful as she waited for him to approach. Her heart pumped faster with each passing second, so much blood coursing through her veins and at such a rate that it made her limbs quiver.

She felt his fingers above her spine. Her stomach flipped and hollowed out. She felt as if she were falling through thin air, dropping like a rock from the sky. Her nerves were tingling, on fire. She pulled her lips between her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut. Why were his simple movements driving her mad? She was shaking under his aggressive, feather light touch.

She felt his breath on her neck, warm against her cool skin. She heard Aang's every exhale and inhale. She was acutely aware of his presence. The warmth of his body permeated through her dress.

She gasped when she felt his lips on her neck, one hand moving to caress her ribcage, the other gripping that fabric of her dress. Her heart stuttered in her chest and she was suffocating without air. She felt his mouth open against her skin, felt him breathe her name hotly onto the inside of her left shoulder blade. She shivered and bit back a moan. How was he doing this to her? She felt his forehead rest against the top of her head as he steadied himself. He waited a painful moment before he continued to unfasten the rest of the buttons. She could have stopped him after the tenth clasp, getting it off would have been doable after that, but she couldn't bring herself to ask him to quit. He stood motionless; his head nestled against hers, and studied the curve of her spine, the skin glowing softly over her vertebrae. Tiny bumps ravaged her body, making the fine hairs on her arms stand up.

Aang swallowed. Her exposed, smooth back beckoned him to touch. He lifted a hand and brought his knuckles to the back of her neck, slowly stroking her all the down. He felt her quiver beneath him, and he closed his eyes as an awfully powerful yearning attacked him. He put his face in her hair, inhaling her scent.

Katara's heartbeat refused slow as they stood together in deafening silence and she felt as though she were running up the face of a mountain. She had her eyes closed still, urging her chest to rise and fall evenly; she might as well have been hyperventilating. He had his hands at her hips and was pressing against her; it made her bones chatter. In the span of a few minutes he had felt more intimate places on her body than he had in their twelve year acquaintance. He had made her feel more vulnerable, more susceptible to touch than she had her in her entire existence. As much as she hated to, she took a step forward, freeing herself from his grasp. She felt his eyes on her as she reached up to loosen her hair, trying not to appear clumsy as she fished for the pins.

She approached an end table to the side of the large bed, disposing fifteen hair pins into a glass dish. She couldn't look at Aang. She was so excited by him she felt sick.

She threaded her fingers into her hair and began to pull them through her main braid, a few tangles catching in her makeshift comb. How was it that though he was not touching her, she felt him all over? She faced away from her husband, embarrassed by the passion he had ignited in her. She prayed she wasn't irritating him. She hoped he would come to her despite her vexing behavior.

She didn't have to wait long.

He was at her back once more, helping to disentangle her woven hair. She smiled at the trouble Sukki had caused them. She had just wanted to wear a simple up do and her brother's wife would not stand for such minimalism for a bride to be.

She felt his hands tenderly grip her shoulders. Words had become superfluous. They could not compete with the sensation of a touch, a caress, or a kiss.

She turned, ducking under one of his strong arms, looking up at him with a new interest. He brought his forehead to hers, his palms cupping her edge of her jaw and the side of her neck, his fingers long and cool against her skin. She stared into his dark eyes mutely, her heart pounding at their proximity. She felt his thumb brush over her cheek and her eyes closed of their own accord; her muscles relaxed in his embrace.

"You're beautiful."

She believed him. "I love you." Her voice was husky, and she was quivering again. Her dress fell down loosely around her shoulders.

Aang tried not to let that distract him.

He tilted her head up and met her mouth with his own. He barely brushed his lips across hers when he turned away from them, breathing into the crook of her neck, planting kisses along her jawbone, at the corner of her mouth. She put her arms around him, her hands going up his back to pull against his broad shoulders. He dipped his head and she felt his lips wet against the hollow of her throat. She breathed heavily, aching in places she had never experienced this kind of hurt before. "Please, Aang." She was near tears. She needed him to kiss her.

He covered her mouth with his gently, their lips caressing each other softly. His hands roamed her body, crushing her to him, chills racked her spine. She nipped at his bottom lip, feeling his surprise at her boldness. They had never taken a kiss any further than that. Aang was too traditional. Katara was too nervous.

She opened her lips against his, breathing into his mouth, whispering nonsense onto his skin. He returned the gesture and their tongues and teeth clashed.

Aang groaned and tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss. He felt the rounded points of her molars and the wetness of her tongue as it slid against his, and he thought she tasted like Heaven. He reached down, gripping the backs of her thighs and lifted her onto the nightstand, careful to move the contents on it away with a bit of airbending before putting her down. He brought his hands back up, fisting both in her dark hair. He heard her whimper and the sound sent a dark pleasure coursing through his blood stream. Her legs wrapped around his waist and he felt arousal gnash at it gut. His lungs screamed for oxygen and they broke from each other at the same time. He caught one of Katara's shaking hands as he steadied himself and they waited to catch their breath. Aang had never been drunk, but he imagined it must felt something like this.

Katara put her head on his rapidly shifting chest; listened to his erratic heartbeat beneath his pectoral muscles. She curled her hand into a fist against his side and buried her face into him.

He combed her hair with his fingers, wondering apprehensively if he had been too rough. "Are you okay?"

She nodded against him, responding with a muffled 'Yeah'. Moments passed, Aang rubbed Katara's hand comfortingly and held her. It wasn't much longer before he felt her lips on his chest and her fingers tugging at his clothes. She stood against him, her nearness unnerving. He helped her shed his tunic, lifting it over his head as she dove in for another deep kiss. He smiled against her mouth and felt her grin back. He took her lip between his and sucked at it, earning a moan of approval from her. He understood her reaction to his touch now that his wife's nimble hands were exploring the planes of his abdomen and chest. He felt like he was coming apart at the seams.

Katara had grown weak against him, her knees buckled; he had to wind an arm around her waist to keep her from falling. She had seen her husband without a shirt on before, even touched him while he hadn't been wearing one. This was different. She noticed how hot his skin was and wondered at how smoothly her fingers slid over his form. He moved away from her mouth again, nibbling delightfully at her ear and kissing her along her brow bone. He was all around her and it made her throb with anticipation. She stiffened when she felt his hands at her shoulders, gripping the sleeves of her dress, and he did as well. His eyes questioned her, 'can I?'. Her slightly swollen lips came together. "Yes." She could barely get the syllable out.

He pulled the fabric down her arms, never taking his eyes off of hers. The pleasure was so intense it felt like death.

What did beautiful mean? To which parts of her did it apply? Would he appreciate that of which he hadn't seen as much as he would that of which he had? The dress pooled into a puddle of fabric around her feet. She watched his reaction as his eyes trailed down her body, her core quaking at the love she saw. They'd seen each other in swimwear, but again, this was different. So achingly, beautifully different.

She was wearing white lace undergarments. Her breasts fit snugly in her bra. Her underwear clung feebly about her narrow hips. Katara yelped when he swept her into his arms and laid her down on the bed, both drowning in pillows. She laughed and so did he.

His expression changed as she reached over her head to grip one of the cushions. She looked alluring and provocative, stretching her lithe body beneath him like that. He felt a stirring in his lower abdomen, like a rope being yanked tight. She bit at her lip and the sight nearly sent him over the edge. He leaned down and kissed her, her breasts pressing against him.

His hands took possession of her once more and she entwined her arms around his neck. He started with her hips, rubbing his thumbs across the points of pelvic bone projecting through and ascending up to caress the concave planes of her torso and to count her ribs. She lifted her leg, rubbing it against the inside of his thigh. He moaned against her mouth and reached down, gripping her knee and bringing it up to pin to his side. He almost collapsed above her, his obvious awareness painful. He put his lips to her ear, his head against hers and buried his nose in her hair. "Don't do that." The words came through gritted teeth, his muscles trembled with restraint.

She breathed heavily under him. "Sorry, didn't mean to."

He moved over her, groaning into a pillow; his need was overwhelming!

She began to kiss his chest, her tongue flicking over his skin. He shuddered and came back to her mouth before she could further worsen his… condition. Aang felt her fingers at the waistband of his pants; he inhaled sharply when he felt her nails scrape against his skin. He untied them and kicked them away, left now in a pair of thin white shorts.

Katara thought the rough texture of his legs felt marvelous against her clean shaven skin. She couldn't stop herself from rubbing the back of her calf over his. She was getting nervous again, now that the only things separating them from total reveal were a few measly undergarments. She shivered as he planted a wet kiss along her on her right hipbone. He came back up and invaded her mouth again. Tongues danced against each other as they began to perspire. The evening air was warm and blew through the curtains and into the room with gusto. He laid flush against her; her body started pulsing in private places. The throbbing grew almost unbearable when she felt him there, pushing persistently against her. There was a ball of energy expanding inside of her, white hot and threatening to explode. She moaned and arched under him. Aang groaned into her mouth and his hand slipped under her back, tracing circles across her spine before unfastening the clasp of her bra. She pulled it over her head, her body lifting toward him in the motion.

She gasped for air as he caressed her chest with his lips and tongue. She gripped the sheets beneath her and curled over him, panting with wanton need. She scraped her teeth over his shoulder blade and squeezed her eyes shut as the unrestrained pleasure coursed within. Lips raw, she laid back, Aang followed her movements, his mouth never leaving her. His hand found hers and he held it as she shook with desire. She thought to herself, was she dying?

He settled above her, just there and she pushed against him, making him groan again.

She started to say his name like she needed him for something. She didn't know why or for what, but it came anyway. Her hand clutched his, her knuckles turned white.

He lifted his head and put his lips to hers affectionately, quieting her cries with the softness of the act. He felt her relax some beneath him. He combed her bangs back fondly, pressing into her. Flesh against flesh. He swallowed and pulled away an inch, opening his eyes to find Katara's glazed over. It was different, seeing her this way, but not at all unappealing.

"Aang." Her lips were colored a pretty red, and swelling slightly. Strands of hair stuck to her face and the rest was billowed about her head like a dark halo, reflecting the flames of the flickering candle light. He waited for her to finish. He wasn't sure what she wanted just yet; he wasn't even sure if Katara knew what Katara wanted. One word was all it took to confirm his growing suspicions. Her voice was ragged. "Please."

He kissed her again, deeply, lovingly. Their tongues slid against each other, their bodies touched. She cradled his head, a tear forming in her left eye. "Please," she said into his mouth.

He maneuvered himself back as she sat up. They discarded the last of their clothing. Katara wasn't nervous by the sight of her naked husband, she was thrilled. She laid back again, expecting now what she had been craving all along. Instead he moved down the length of her body, stopping at all the favored landmarks, to flick his tongue over the hollow of her throat, to kiss her breasts and ribs, her belly button which was surprisingly potent, her hips. He watched her watching him, her lovely mouth trembling. He skipped over her most sensitive region and something akin to a sob bubbled in her throat. He lifted her knee, kissing the inside of it, and going back up towards her inner thigh, his tongue alighting her nerves. Her back arched as he came closer to her center. She tossed her head and fisted her hands in the sheets. "Aang." She called his name again and again, unable to restrain her need.

Aang reveled in the sound of his name slipping from her lips in such a fashion. He pleasured her until he could no longer wait for fulfillment himself. He moved over her again, arms braced on either side of her petite frame. He kissed her once more, the feel of unguarded flesh attacking their senses; it ruined them so many times over. Feeling her bare against him drove him over the edge.

He joined with Katara, her name at his lips. He grabbed the back of her thigh, hitching her up to find it- the place where they would both come undone. She clutched at his arms, wrapped her lean legs around his hips; they fit together perfectly- a two piece puzzle. She loved him so much. God, she loved him so much.

Aang wouldn't notice the wind raging outside, or the water surging onto the rocks, or the earth shaking, or the flames of the candles swelling like volcanic flares. Neither would Katara. It was all a part of them in that moment. All the elements contributed energy to their coupling, to the finalizing of their bond. The universe became one with the Avatar when he became one with this woman he had loved since the day she'd set him free from the ice that had entombed him for over a century. She had made him good. His instructors had made him skilled, but she had made him the Avatar.

Katara exploded with satiated desire, her love for her husband all-consuming and simply too powerful for the world to suppress. When Aang's climax followed shortly after, his tattoos glowed a brilliant blue and bathed them in ethereal light- he kissed her deeply, words of his love for her muffled against and drowning in her mouth. She wound her arms around his neck and held tight, riding the waves of bone jarring pleasure as tears streaked down her face.

Moments later they lay panting, still coupled; their bodies pulsating. He touched his lips to her collarbone and her temples, tasting traces of sweat and salty tears. He pushed back her matted bangs and put his forehead to hers, searching her wet blue eyes. Katara breathed though parted lips, and gently traced the planes of his face and the point of the arrow dipping between his brows with her fingertips. He put his hand over one of hers; the locked joints in his other arm braced near the side of her head trembled, bearing the weight of his upper body so he wouldn't be too heavy on top of her. The light emanating from his tattoos dimmed as his heartbeat slowed and blood simmered. The azure hue cast over his wife faded to reveal her flushed skin.

She stroked his cheek with her knuckles. "Yes, at least you're not short."

His eyes crinkled at the outer corners as he smiled and claimed her succulent mouth with his once more.

**A/N: Well, there you have it! Please drop by my profile page and vote for which of my future stories you'd like to see written first- I've got a couple ideas I'm considering. Reviews/favorites/follows are returned! Thanks so much for reading!**


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